One glorious forenoon, early in May, as Roma was seated in her Quaker rocking-chair, on her front piazza, engaged in her “contemplative knitting work,” with the little colored child, Ducky Darling, seated at her feet, nursing Owlet’s bull pup, George Thomas, she heard the sound of wheels. Looking up, she saw a gig rolling along the acacia drive toward the house. As it drew nearer she recognized the venerable figure of the aged minister seated within it, with another, of a young, grave, clerical-looking man, beside him. Puck, who was hoeing a flower bed in front of the house, dropped the hoe and ran forward to take the horse’s head, just as the minister drew up the gig before the door. Roma also arose, and came down the steps to receive the visitors, while Ducky Darling, with George Thomas in her arms, waddled away, in fear of the stranger. Dr. Shaw alighted, followed by his companion, and threw the reins to the negro. “Mus’ I take de hoss an’ gig ayound to de stable, sah?” inquired Puck, touching his hat to the clergyman. “Yes; of course,” quickly struck in Roma, speaking for her old pastor before he could open his lips. And the negro mounted the gig and drove off. “Good-morning, my dear Roma,” said Dr. Shaw, offering his hand. “How do you do? I am very glad to see you,” said the young lady, cordially taking the proffered hand in both of hers. “Allow me to introduce to you my esteemed young friend, the Rev. Paul Stone. Mr. Stone, Miss Fronde.” The young clergyman bowed. “I am very happy to know you, Mr. Stone,” said Roma, cordially offering her hand, which he took and bowed over, saying: “I am honored.” The hall door stood wide open on this lovely May morning. Roma turned with a smile, and with a wave of her hand mutely invited them to precede her into the house. “Oh, no, thank you. Let us sit out here, if you have no objection; which, as we found you sitting here when we drove up, I presume you have not,” said the old minister, with a deprecating smile. “Of course not. It is my favorite seat in this season, always excepting the summer house in the garden,” said Roma, with an answering smile. Paul Stone drew chairs forward for Dr. Shaw and himself, and they seated themselves. Roma resumed her own seat and her knitting work, for she knew that nothing made her friends feel more at ease than to see that they did not interrupt the mechanical work that could be carried on without interrupting conversation or withdrawing the least attention from themselves. “Mr. Stone graduated last summer from the Theological College of Alexandria, Virginia. He was ordained only this last Easter. Our parish is his first charge,” said Dr. Shaw, with a smiling glance from his hostess to his clerical brother.